


Waiting For A Break

by inkheart9459



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Waitress AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3886117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkheart9459/pseuds/inkheart9459
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy is a waitress in the city's hottest restaurant. At least she is until she gets her big break and gets a regularly paying acting gig. Until then waiting tables isn't horrible, anyway. Then one day Miranda Priestly, the biggest agent in New York walks into her restaurant and gets sat in her section. Andy knows that nothing will probably come of it, but that doesn't mean she isn't going to be the best waitress Miranda's ever had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting For A Break

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from an anon on tumblr: Mirandy. Andy is a waitress, never worked for Miranda. She's one of the best, and always racks up huge tips, which she desperately needs. Miranda comes in, and Andy becomes her waitress by default- when the others refuse. She shows some spunk and attitude, but gets the job done, with only a mildly irate Miranda on her hands afterwards. Miranda leaves a LARGE tip and the 'request' that Andy quit as a waitress to be her personal assistant. What will Andy do?  
> As another note, this started out as original fic for a writing class, but it ended up being too much like Mirandy for me to really see it as anything else, so fanfic time. Also I have no idea what a really upscale restaurant charges per meal? Go with me here, I'm a broke college student.

Andy took a step outside the restaurant and took in a deep breath of definitely not so fresh air, but still it tasted like relief. She missed being able to taste grass and rain on the air instead of smog and god only knew what else, but she didn’t miss much else about the middle of nowhere. She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and started to walk for the subway on aching feet. Being a waitress at a high end place had its perks, in and of the fact that it paid her bills easily enough with some left to spare, but aching feet every night and dealing with people too used to getting their way because they flashed a few bills was definitely on the end of disadvantages.

It was just until she found something better, she kept telling herself, until she broke into the business and started getting parts consistently. Andy sighed, that’s what everyone said who came to New York to act. But she worked her ass off. It had to pay off sometime. It had only been a year. It wasn’t that long. And while she waited she had a lot more going for her than most. It didn’t quite soothe the ache, but it did enough.

The subway ride was mercifully short and the car was mostly empty this late. She flopped down on a seat that didn’t look like it had anything heinous on it and waited as the train flew through underground tunnels and closer to the Lower East Side.  Another ten minute walk from the subway and she was opening her apartment door to laughter. She rolled her eyes and walked into her tiny living room, filled with more people than was probably advisable. They all looked up at her and smiled.

“Andy!” A few of them shouted.

Her best friend Lily shoved Doug off the couch and patted the space beside her. Andy smiled and fell onto the couch beside her and stretched out her legs, resting them on top of Doug where he now sat on the floor. He looked up at her with a mock glare, but accepted the added weight on his shoulders with no complaints.

“How was work?” Lily asked as the raucous chatter resumed.

Andy shrugged. “Same old, rich people, ridiculously small portions, obscene tips when they aren’t being dicks, normal life.”

Lily nodded along. “Sounds lovely.”

Andy didn’t ask how Lily’s day was. She probably didn’t want to know. A social worker in the city didn’t exactly ever have good days, especially one that dealt with LGBT youth.

Nate returned from the kitchen and handed Andy a beer. “Ask Doug about his day.” He smirked as Doug groaned loudly and hid his face in his hands.

“Y’all are horrible!” he exclaimed. “I did not tell you this so you would make fun of me.”

Lily laughed and shoved Doug’s shoulder. “Yeah, you wanted pity, which you’ll get, after we’re all done laughing at your dumb ass.”

The room burst into laughter. Andy sat forward and nudged Doug. “Now you have to tell me.”

He sighed like he was the most put upon man in the world. “You know that one guy in accounting that I thought was cute?”

“Well, yeah.” The duh was heavily implied in her tone. It was hard not to know about that guy. Andy didn’t even know his name, but she thought she knew more about him than the dude’s mother.

“Well, I might have asked him out.”

The room burst into laughter again. Lily collapsed against Andy, clutching her sides. Ashley had tears running down her face, Nate was clapping like a seal, and Jaime had a hand over her mouth to try and quiet the loud laughs that were coming from her mouth. They didn’t want the cops called on them just for laughing loud, not that the super hadn’t come up a few times to tell them to shut up before. Eventually one of the neighbors was going to get cranky and do something more drastic.

“Asked out?” Ashley finally managed to gasp out. “That’s what you call that? Oh my god, train wreck might be more accurate!”

Andy felt Doug blush even through the slacks that cover her legs. Whatever had happened had been good. Doug looked down and fidgeted in his lap for a second before sighing and starting to speak.

“Well, I found out from one of our coworkers that he really liked red velvet cupcakes from the bakery that’s down the street from the firm. So I got him one and I was going to ask him out when I gave it to him but…” he trailed off rubbing his hand through his hair.

“The dumbass tripped and managed to shove the cupcake right onto the guy’s crotch,” Lily finishes for him, laughing again.

Andy holds back the laughter that wants to come out. She reached out and patted Doug’s head. “Better luck next time, dude.”

Her friends all laughed again and Doug shook his head. Andy figured that the next time one of them botched something in the romance department Doug would be right on the front of the teasing train, just like best friends were supposed to be.

Doug turned to her and glared good naturedly. “I don’t see you finding anyone at work or otherwise.” He stuck his tongue out.

Andy looked out at her friends, Ashley coupled up with Jaime, Nate wiggling his eyebrows at her to which she rolled her eyes at. Nate was just lucky that he’d found some girl at the bar who was desperate enough to date him, though she had to admit Kim was one of the better one’s he’d brought out with him. Lily had someone that she was keeping secret from the rest of them until she was sure of them. If Andy knew her it was some artist type of girl that might fade off for some completely stupid reason. Doug did have a point. She was the only one who wasn’t even trying.

She just shrugged. “No one jumps out, not my fault.”

“You’re telling me in the whole of New York there is not one hot woman or man who has graced your restaurant or staff that you wouldn’t want to bang,” Jaime said, rolling her eyes.

Lily laughed beside her. “Yeah, girl, why don’t you get a nice sugar mama? God knows the people who come there are rich enough.”

Andy snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Let me just get on that.”

“Oh, better yet, find Dougie Boy here one,” Lily said and everyone laughed.

Her friends continued on teasing Doug once more. Andy sat back now that she wasn’t the center of attention and let the talk flow around her, relaxing into the couch and letting the day go. Nah, being a waitress wasn’t the best, but she had friends and a nice place to live and everything else going for her. She could wait for her big break as long as she needed as long as her life stayed like this in the interim.

 She sipped more beer. She let the teasing of Doug go on for just a while longer to get back at him for that single dig at her before she saved him. She spoke up during one of the natural lulls in conversation and launched into a story about one of her customers that had her friends rolling on the floor and Doug’s humiliation and her own perpetual singleness long forgotten.

 

The next day Andy shows up for her shift, black slacks pressed perfectly and white shirt crisp. She was sure she looked like a million bucks even if her back ached and she really didn’t want to be there. She clocked in easily and set about doing her prep work silently. The restaurant isn’t so bad before the customers come in. The chefs are loud and testy but generally easy people to get along with if you know what buttons not to push. The other servers are mostly people like her, waiting for something better to open up before they move on. There’s almost a sense of camaraderie. Until the doors open and the first reservations of the day pour in.

Being the hottest spot in the City right now is great for her tips, but the people it draws…maybe it’s the small town girl in her still, but she doesn’t understand how spoiled trust fund boys get on such a god damn high horse. She swears if one more of them hit on her she would scream. Telling them that she’s not interested doesn’t work, neither does telling them she’s gay, half the time telling them she’s involved doesn’t work either. It’s maddening to have to balance how she reacts to idiots and the want to keep her job, but she managed, if only barely.

Lunch passed easily enough with businessmen with lingering eyes but rather open wallets. She rolled her eyes at Kali, the closest person she has for a friend at work every time she was in the back, but there was nothing horrible and the tips were decent. Kali nodded her sympathy and shoved another tray full of food at her before shooing her back out into the fray.

Dinner was always more complicated, more people, bigger parties, more orders. It was more like a dance than anything. Movements had to be coordinated just so in order to work and so everyone came out happy. Andy was always happy that she’d gotten down the rhythm years ago waitressing through high school and college that now at a place like this it’s second nature. The socialites come out to see and be seen and in a way it’s both better and worse than lunch. They aren’t in a hurry, but if they complain you might as well kiss a good night goodbye.

Halfway through dinner Andy had been having a decent night to go along with her decent lunch. She thought that she might come through the day relatively happy for once. Marsha tapped her on the shoulder and let her know she had a new table for two at forty-two over in the corner. Andy sighed made her way over with a smile on her face.

She stopped halfway there for just a second, looking at the older woman at the table with stunning silver hair and a rebellious forelock falling over her forehead. Andy knew her. It was hard not to know her if you were an actor worth anything. Miranda Priestly sat at table forty one with her date. The woman who was the best agent in the entire city was sitting right in front of her. Andy felt like she was about to melt.

She kicked herself into action. Nothing would come of it, she knew, but damn it if she wasn’t about to be the best waitress the woman had ever had. Really, you never knew what might happen, right? Or at least that’s what Andy told herself. Worst came to worst and she might get a better tip if nothing else.

She walked up to the table, stride confident. “Hi, my name is Andy and I will be your waitress this evening. Is there anything I can get you to start off, wine, water, a starter?” She smiled brightly.

Miranda looked up and raked her eyes over Andy. She almost shivered, but held her ground, smile still firmly on her face. She thanked every god she knew that she both was an actress and had more than enough experience in a public service job to actually look like she meant it.

“Andy,” she spat the name out like it was something horrible. “Do you not have a proper name?”

Andy scowled. “I believe that Andy is a proper name, ma’am.”

“Andy is a nickname and those are not proper.”

Andy kept her eye from twitching. Who in the world was this woman that she thought she could tell Andy that her name wasn’t right? She was just a fucking waitress for god’s sake. Who actually cared what her name was?

“My full name is Andrea, but the only one who ever called me that was my great-grandmother.”

Miranda nodded. “Well, then, Andrea, you may get me a bottle of your best red and a New York Strip grilled medium rare.” She looked over at her dining companion who had an amused expression on his face the entire time Miranda had been dissecting Andy’s name.

“Red is fine and a chicken Caesar for me.”

Andy nodded, wrote down the order and disappeared as fast as humanly possible. She was seething both at herself for potentially screwing up meeting one of the biggest agents in the business and for Miranda for being such an absolute bitch. She took a deep breath and centered herself again before going back into the wine rack, pulling out one of the lesser known reds and grabbing two glasses. Uncorking the bottle let out a bit of her frustration, but not nearly enough.

When she returned to the table to pour the wine she knew her smile wasn’t as bright as it should be, but damn it all the woman had gotten under her skin so easily. The last time anyone had made her this mad this quickly had been her last girlfriend towards the end of their relationship. And that was _not_ going to be an avenue she was going to go down. In the slightest. Ever.  The woman was just a bitch, nothing more.

Miranda swirled the wine Andy had poured, smelling it briefly before sipping it. “Acceptable.” She set her wine glass down and then promptly ignored Andy.

Andy bit the inside of her lip before speaking again. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Miranda waved her off like she was a fly.

Andy walked away and tended to all of her other tables with a smile on her face, hiding the bubbling fury underneath. She could not wait for Miranda’s food to come up so she could get rid her and get on with her night of drunken high class people. Getting hit on was preferable to being treated like a squashed bug.

Twenty minutes later their food was up and Andy was at least a little calmer with another hundred bucks in tips in her pocket. She’d have a little extra this month that she could put away so she could afford to take a couple days off for auditions. That thought made her happy enough that thoughts of murder weren’t at the forefront of her mind.

“Here you are,” she said slipping beside of Miranda’s table and placing their food in front of them. She waited patiently as Miranda cut into her steak.

“This isn’t medium rare.”

And thoughts of murder came rushing back because from what she could see, it totally was medium rare.

“Honestly, is it so hard to cook a simple steak?” Miranda glared up at Andy like it was her who had fucked up the steak, like she’d done it on purpose or something. At this point, Andy totally would, but that was beside the point.

“Too red or too cooked for your liking?” Andy swooped forward to take the plate away.

“I wanted a medium rare steak, and that it is not. Just fix it.” Again, she was waved off like a fly.

Andy blinked a few times. “I will certainly fix it for you, but in order for me to provide the best service to you, I have to know what to tell the chefs to do better next time.”

Miranda leveled a glare at her that would have sent anyone with a weaker constitution running for the hills. “What about my instructions weren’t clear?”

“From what I can see, this steak is done medium rare, at least by this restaurant’s standards. I will be happy to provide you with food that meets your standards, but in order for that to happen, you have to tell me what you want.” Andy knew she was probably screwing this up completely, but she had as much inertia as a freight train and wasn’t about to stop anytime soon.

There was a long silence wherein they stared at each other, Miranda sizing her up, and Andy holding her ground. She could feel the eyes of Miranda’s dinner companion on her, felt the warning he was trying to give her, but she wouldn’t back down. This was a woman who could black ball her from acting in even the lowliest of commercials, but at the moment, that didn’t matter.

Then, finally, a miracle happened. “I want it redder in the middle.” Miranda raised her face so she was looking down her nose at Andy even though she was sitting down.

Andy nodded once. “Alrighty then, I will go order you a steak that’s a little less done.” She walked off, holding the offending piece of meat and into the kitchen. She threw the plate of food away, put the order for the new steak up, and then promptly walked into the break room, grabbed her jacket and screamed into it. She was an idiot. Miranda was an idiot. A beautiful, powerful, idiot. She massaged her temples when she realized she’d thought the word beautiful. This was not the time for her thing for women in power to manifest itself. It really, really, wasn’t.

The steak came up without a hitch, she took it back to Miranda and held her breath. Miranda nodded upon seeing the middle of the steak and Andy fought the urge to jump in the air. Half an hour later the woman was gone and Andy couldn’t ever recall feeling more relieved. The feeling promptly fled when she picked up the bill from the table Miranda had just vacated to find there was a hundred and fifty dollar tip on a three hundred dollar meal. She swallowed hard and wondered what in the hell had just happened to her.

 

A month, and three auditions, later Miranda walked back into the restaurant. Andy could almost feel the change in the air as she turned around to see the woman shedding her coat and throwing it on the guy at the coat check. She felt her heart beat just a little harder and prayed that she wouldn’t have the woman in her section just as hard as she prayed that she would. It was like her brain was playing tug of war, and Andy wasn’t exactly sure which side would win. She shook herself and forced herself back into the flow of work.

At least until two minutes later the maître d’ came up to her and pointed over to Miranda who was sitting firmly in her section, looking over a menu. “She requested you, bumped another reservation to a smaller table, but.” He shrugged obviously saying ‘what can you do’ and walked away.

Andy cursed and made her way over to the table, another fake smile on her face. She didn’t even get past her introduction before Miranda looked up and silenced her.

“Sit.”

Andy scowled for half a second. “Um, thanks for the offer, but I do have other customers I have to attend to. I can’t just take a break out of the blue.”

Miranda glanced behind her and Andy turned to see her staring down Hanna, one of her fellow servers. Hanna immediately got the message that Miranda wanted something with her and scurried over to stand beside Andy.

“Yes, ma’am?”

Miranda’s expression darkened. “Take her tables for the next twenty minutes.” She gestured to Andy.

Andy went to protest. She had at least two tables that were going to finish up in the next twenty minutes and she would be damned if she lost those tips to the vultures. She still had a little bit extra left over and she would be damned if she wasn’t going to keep adding to it. She may not have gotten anything out of her last three auditions, but at least she had been out there.

“And you will give all rightfully earned tips to her, you understand,” Miranda continued.

Andy backed down just a bit at that proclamation. Well, as long as she was getting the tips, it was a twenty minute break off her feet and her boss couldn’t get mad considering she was following the whims of someone how could crush their restaurant with a few well-placed words.

Hanna nodded and scurried off, now moving twice as fast since she had twice as many tables. Andy looked off after her for a second, wondering if this really was a good idea, before she sat down across from Miranda and waited for whatever the purpose was of this odd request.

Miranda looked her over carefully for a minute, the silence stretching long. Andy was glad to have a chance to get off her feet, but being stared at really wasn’t the great of an alternative. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, but kept staring back at Miranda. Miranda cocked an eyebrow after another minute and smiled just the tiniest bit.

Andy couldn’t take the silence anymore. “What exactly am I doing here?”

“Keeping me company. The man I set up a meeting with unfortunately does not know what punctual means and won’t be here for the next twenty minutes.” Her voice took on a dark, edgy quality. “I have just the slightest inkling that whatever he wants to meet with me about, he won’t be getting.”

Andy shivered and sat back. She had seen the bitch of a woman before, but what was in front of her now was different, dangerous, a woman that had clawed her way to the top in a world built for men. It was as scary as it was sexy. Andy pinched her leg under the table. Really, she had to stop these thoughts.

“Oh, well, if he really wanted it then he would have been here early, not just on time.” She was relieved when her words seemed to calm Miranda down just the slightest bit. There wasn’t murder in her eyes at least, so she took that as a win.

“Yes, that is my view on the subject.” She looked Andy over again. “So, Andrea, how does one such as yourself come to work as a waitress. Surely someone with your backbone could find employment elsewhere.”

Andy shrugged. “It’s good money and it’s flexible enough that I can take off for auditions. It’s obviously not what I want to do for the rest of my life, but for now it’s fine.” Really, she’d rather be in the Antarctic with penguins, but at least the good money comment was true enough.

“What sort of auditions?” She sat forward, intrigued.

“Acting.” Andy held her breath. She had known that this would probably come up when she had mentioned auditions, but really, she might be suicidal mentioning acting to this woman. God only knew what she would do if she felt like Andy was somehow using her. Andy wasn’t sure how that was really possible, but that was still so beside the point.

 “What have you been in?”

“Around here? Really almost nothing. I’ve been an extra in a couple plays that were so far off Broadway I don’t even think they’re on the same planet, a couple commercials, things like that. I’m still trying to get a foot in the door like everyone else around here.”

Miranda blinked and sat back. “And so you know who I am?”

“Well, yeah, everyone who’s worth anything does and half the people who aren’t worth anything at all to boot.”

Miranda’s hand came up and traced her lips lightly. “And yet the last time I was here you didn’t immediately bow to my wishes…” she trailed off clearly thinking.

Andy blushed hard. “Well, I sort of have a thing where I don’t like being treated like scum, so, it was just sort of a natural reaction.”

Miranda hummed and Andy swore she saw just a little bit of hunger flash through the other woman’s eyes. She had to be imagining things. There was no way that the woman sitting in front of her would look at her with anything approaching want. But then Miranda was licking her lips and leaning forward and Andy didn’t quite know what to think other than ‘umm.’

“A great many people follow my order without question. It’s rather nice a great deal of the time. However, that also means it’s quite refreshing when someone does stand their ground. A backbone is rather important in the business as well.”

“So I’ve heard. It’s handy after a year of really nothing, keeps me going.”

Miranda nodded. “It took five years for me to really get anywhere. They say it’s a game for the young and beautiful, but really it’s about persistence and a bit of luck as long as you have talent.”

“Well, let’s hope I have talent since I definitely have persistence and usually have luck.”

A smile flitted across Miranda’s face. “Yes, let’s.”

A man came rushing in, panting, sweating, and generally looking like the last thing he should be attending was a business meeting. He glared at Andy and she took that as her sign to get up and move around to her standard place at the table.   “Miranda, I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was worse than usual and my last meeting ran long.”

Miranda’s gaze hardened as she looked the man over and Andy was infinitely glad she wasn’t on the wrong end of that stare.

He stuck his hand out for Miranda to shake.  “Mike Penn, it’s nice to finally meet you in person, Miranda.”

Miranda just stared at him for a second before looking back at Andy. “The same as the last time, if you would.”

Andy nodded, already noting down the steak needed to be just barely past rare in her notepad. She looked at the other man. He sat down and continued to glare at her. “Scotch and a filet well done.”

Andy had to hold back her grimace and Miranda looked like the man had just committed blasphemy ordering a steak that way. She almost laughed, but managed a nod, writing down the order and scurrying off to reclaim her tables and put in Miranda’s order.

She watched the business dinner from the corner of her eye as she went about tending to the rest of her tables. The snippets she heard of the conversation before she approached to set down their drinks, and then later their food, didn’t sound too good for the guy. If anything, it sounded like Miranda was verbally eviscerating him and the guy’s attempts to defend himself were just digging him in an even deeper and deeper hole. Andy had to hold off a snicker when she went back to ask if the man wanted a refill on his scotch and Miranda turned to her and shook her head.

“He won’t be needing a refill. He won’t be gracing this table for much longer. If you would fetch the man his bill and a box for what’s left of what can’t even be called steak anymore, I’m sure he would greatly appreciate it.”

The man didn’t even try to protest, but then again, Andy wouldn’t have either with a look that spelled slow death if he said otherwise.

“I’ll be right back with those things then.” Andy smiled at Miranda before fetching the box and the bill post haste.

Once Andy had processed his card the man was out the door within two minutes. Miranda continued to eat slowly, now alone at her table. Andy swung by the pick up the bill from the man and Miranda stopped her again.

“Your service tonight has not been completely horrible.” There was a smirk on her face, just barely there, but Andy thought there was no mistaking the look. She got the impression that this was as close to saying thanks as Miranda ever really got. She nodded so deeply it almost was a bow.

“Of course, I live to please.”

There was a delicate snort before Miranda waved her on again. This time the gesture didn’t irritate her quite as much. It could be worse after all, she could be turn tail running across Manhattan like the businessman Miranda had just run out of the restaurant.

Another twenty minutes and Miranda was out the door once more. Andy looked at the bill that was still lying on the table as she went around to the other customers in her section. She wondered if there would be another stellar tip left for her. Hopefully, since her dinner companion had stiffed her. Asshole.

Andy sighed and grabbed the folder from the table as she walked past to drop off some dirty dished. She opened it after she had disposed of her load and a business card dropped to the floor. She bent down and picked it up, gasping as she read the text. Miranda’s business card, with the cell number underlined. Holy shit. She flipped it over and on the back in elegant script read “let’s see what that backbone can do.”

She swallowed hard. What did that even mean? Was that, let me see how your acting skills are, or something else, something more…personal? Fuck it, Andy didn’t care. She stuck the card into one of the pockets on her apron. She would totally be calling later and god knew what would happen, but either way she’d benefit.

Andy looked down at the signed slip that still was in the folder. Huh, and another awesome tip too. She shut the folder and went back to her remaining tables.


End file.
